A piece of anti-drug propaganda--apparently, actually--produced by the National institute of Mental Health, of the United States government, "Curious Alice" is an outrageously amusing wonder of unintended consequences. Indeed, the psychedelic cut-out animation for Wonderland comes across more as a promotion of drug consumption instead of a convincing polemic against--at least, it suggests that the filmmakers of this weren't unfamiliar with such illicit usage themselves. One would be hard-pressed to design a drug campaign better, or worse depending on your position, suited to joining the interests of children and drug users than by employing Lewis Carroll's "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland."
Alice chases the White Rabbit through a medicine cabinet, from Aspirin to prescription drugs, a home bar filled with booze and a cigarette vending machine until she drinks enough to be in an inebriated state to enter Wonderland. Through the gateway, she meets the Caterpillar, who turns out is smoking wacky tobacky from the hookah. The tea party consists of an LSD-Mad Hatter, a pep-pills-taking March Hare and a Dormouse hooked on sleeping meds. King of all the land, though, is heroine, as pushed by the King of Hearts to the rest of the deck of cards. Appropriately enough, given that he was the one to be somewhat helpful and kind to Alice in the book, only the Cheshire Cat tries to save Alice from drug abuse. Although the short film does manage to play around a bit with the book's wonderful wordplay, it's also telling that it butchers the dialogue between Alice and the Cat. There's no such line this time as, "We're all mad here," and you can't convince me that a smiling cat with the superpower of invisibility is a beacon of sobriety. That's nonsense.
Regardless of one's opinions of illicit substances, that "Curious Alice" should backfire, turning out amusing because it's so bad, serves the propagandists right. Part of what makes Carroll's Alice books not only the greatest children's literature ever, but also a curious and curiouser read for adults to this day, is that they don't contain a moral. They are stories that parody other fairy tales, that do not earnestly reflect reality, that are wrapped up in riddles, that are about the absurdity of messages and the limits of logic. Using that book to sling your hype? That's dopey.
Alice chases the White Rabbit through a medicine cabinet, from Aspirin to prescription drugs, a home bar filled with booze and a cigarette vending machine until she drinks enough to be in an inebriated state to enter Wonderland. Through the gateway, she meets the Caterpillar, who turns out is smoking wacky tobacky from the hookah. The tea party consists of an LSD-Mad Hatter, a pep-pills-taking March Hare and a Dormouse hooked on sleeping meds. King of all the land, though, is heroine, as pushed by the King of Hearts to the rest of the deck of cards. Appropriately enough, given that he was the one to be somewhat helpful and kind to Alice in the book, only the Cheshire Cat tries to save Alice from drug abuse. Although the short film does manage to play around a bit with the book's wonderful wordplay, it's also telling that it butchers the dialogue between Alice and the Cat. There's no such line this time as, "We're all mad here," and you can't convince me that a smiling cat with the superpower of invisibility is a beacon of sobriety. That's nonsense.
Regardless of one's opinions of illicit substances, that "Curious Alice" should backfire, turning out amusing because it's so bad, serves the propagandists right. Part of what makes Carroll's Alice books not only the greatest children's literature ever, but also a curious and curiouser read for adults to this day, is that they don't contain a moral. They are stories that parody other fairy tales, that do not earnestly reflect reality, that are wrapped up in riddles, that are about the absurdity of messages and the limits of logic. Using that book to sling your hype? That's dopey.